#having a LOT of issues getting myself to do like

[littlelovelunette]

Milf reader x vi cuz like look at her MOMMY ISSUES anyways so like reader fucking her and making her feel small and dumber than her

UNEXPECTED TURN

— SUB! VI X MILF! READER ★

Reader is a single parent in this au, Vi is an adult in this au— don't get weird ideas guys, age gap, fingering, clothed sex, mentions of being caught, implication of later sex, sub!Vi

★ YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. DON'T COMPLAIN IF YOU READ SOMETHING YOU DON'T LIKE—

Your daughter's friend Vi has been checking you out since the moment she walked in your apartment with your daughter— Melanie. Melanie asked Vi to sit by the couch and wait for her. The moment your daughter disappeared in her room, Vi started flirting with you in more ways than one. She was clearly eye-fucking you.

“You do this to all your friends’ mothers?” You asked, legs crossing as your eyes remained trained on the screen of your laptop.

“Not all of them are as hot as you,” Vi said, voice smug.

But you could say, her control was slipping. It was the way her thighs clenched together as if she was trying to hold onto the last string of self control. Her blue eyes gazed over to your cleavage, breasts almost spilling out of the top that felt a bit tight on your chest but you hadn't had the chance to change. You'd been busy.

“You're staring,” you said dully.

Vi cleared her throat, “No, I'm not.”

“I wasn't born yesterday,” you said, a slow smirk pulling on your glossy lips.

Vi felt her cheeks go red, heat spreading through her body in a way she hadn't ever felt before. Fuck it, Vi was supposed to be the dominant one, she always had been. Vi had always held the upper hand when it came to women and controlled how things went with them, even in the bedroom. Never once had she submitted to a woman.

Melanie appeared at the doorway, “Are you okay, Vi…?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vi looked at Melanie. “Totally wasn't checking your mother out,” she thought, placing her hands over her lap.

“You're acting a little off,” Melanie said, eyes squinted as she plopped onto the couch beside Vi.

“I'm fine,” Vi said, voice almost throaty.

You got up, “I'll get you both some snacks,” you smiled, grabbing your laptop off and walking out of the living room.

Hours passed by. It was late in the afternoon and Melanie was deep asleep on the couch beside Vi with her head lolled against the back of the couch. Vi had a controller in hand, lazily playing a video game until she saw you walk past the living room and suddenly she felt a heat pool in her stomach again. She couldn't control it. She put the controller down and rose to her feet.

“Y'know everyday I find myself wondering how a gorgeous woman like you is single,” Vi said, walking around the kitchen counter and close to you.

“You're telling me you think about me everyday?” You looked at her, something dark and primal in your gaze.

“That's not what—” Vi flushed. “...Maybe.”

“Is that right?” You stepped closer to her. “You do know I'm a lot more experienced than you are, right?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Vi swallowed, throat bobbing.

“That's supposed to mean,” you pulled her close by her waist, “I know how to handle naughty girls like you.”

“What if Melanie wakes up?” Vi asked, her voice shaking.

“I guess, you'll have to be quiet.”

That was hard to be when your fingers were so good in her, your long fingers twisted inside her making her back arch. Vi grabbed the kitchen counter with one hand, other hand on your shoulder as your fingers worked faster in her dripping pussy. Your hand was in her boxers and pants, easily fingering her so good while she broke down in front of you.

“Fuck, you're so good.” Vi threw her head back.

You grabbed her jaw by your other hand, pulling her in for a deep kiss so she'd stop whining and moaning loud enough to wake Melanie. Your thumb found her clit, pressing the pad of the finger firmly against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Vi squeaked softly in the kiss.

“There we go…” you chuckled and pulled away from the kiss as your fingers curled inside her, rubbing against her sweet spot almost excruciatingly.

Vi looked at you, eyes lust clouded as her eyebrows furrowed. Her mouth opened as if she would say something but the only thing that exited was a breathy “Ha…”

“Are you gonna cum, sweetie?” You asked, voice honeyed as you felt the way her walls fluttered around your digits.

Vi couldn't only muster a weak nod as she rutted against your hand, your fingers pumped faster if possible making her knees buckle. “I can't, I can't,” Vi whispered, her voice almost inaudible, her toned arms wrapped around you— holding on for balance.

“Cum for me,” you said, forcing her to meet your gaze and she did. She broke in your arms, because of your fingers, she was completely submissive to you. You helped her up on the kitchen counter, she sat there, catching her breath. She raised the waistband of her boxers and pants just enough to look at her messy, wet pussy.

“Fuck you.”

“Is that supposed to be on your to-do list?” You gave her a victorious grin, tasting her juices on your fingers. “Sweet.”

Vi rolled her eyes, “I should get going, it's getting late… but do tell Melanie I'll be back next weekend,” Vi got off the counter.

“Coming back to get fingered by her mom?” You asked with a sweet smile.

Vi didn't say anything, but her cheeks brightened red— there was your answer.

Yes.

[missterious-figure]

This was pretty hard for me to write and is pretty personal, but I felt like I needed to post this, maybe for my own sake.

A few days after I made my last post I had a family member pass away. My family is really tight-nit and I was home schooled for awhile, so they were all I knew. I had tried to make friends in high school but it didn't really go well and I guess that is why I don't like being in crowds much now that I think about it. And having one of my family members pass so suddenly really opened my eyes to how alone I would be with out them and how disconnected I felt to the world. I could barely function after they passed and it got so bad that I failed an art class and almost dropped out of college all together. Failing that art class made me lose hope in my art skills and I started to spiral even more. Maybe I wasn't cut out for art after all and if I wasn't good at art than I was nothing.

Luckily one of my teachers noticed how badly I was doing and encouraged me to seek therapy. Even more lucky that my college had a free therapist for students that was very kind and is still helping me to get out of the spiral I can't seem to break.

I guess, I just felt like I've been not only failing myself and my dreams, but also all of you as well. Any time I took a long break I was terrified that you would all hate me or reject me or be mad for disappearing so long. I don't know why I thought that, but it always just lingered in the back of my mind and I felt so bad each time. I guess that's why I always apologized when ever I came back on, but I was always terrified that my apologies and long disappearances would just become annoying and push people away. It's taken me a lot of courage to just try and write this, and I don't really blame any of you if you are upset at me. But I do want to thank you guys a lot. For being so patient and just being so nice and kind to me.

I'm still trying and I won't be quitting or stopping making art, but I'm still trying to work on myself and deal with my own issues. I want to get back in to drawing again, as I haven't done much of it in a while, but I also don't want to stress myself out and repeat the same thing.

[mightyoctopus]

Not OP, but the first step to doing better is to not tell your kid that their hair is unkempt and gross for being curly and that their curls need to be flattened every day. Like, (OP please correct me if I’m putting words in your mouth) this post is not primarily a hair care or cosmetics post. This post is about how kids with curly hair are being mistreated and taught to hate themselves. The best thing you can do is to not teach your children that straight hair is superior and that their hair needs to be fixed.

Having kids and taking care of them can be frustrating and a lot of work, but it’s important that kids don’t internalize, “I’m a bad kid and my hair is bad hair. Life would be so much easier for mommy and daddy if it was straight.” All the issues you listed exist for kids with straight hair too. It’s important to treat yourself and your child with patience, and don’t make your child feel bad about their immutable characteristics

That said, if you want some practical tips (everything of course depending on her age and hair texture)

- Regularly washing more than once a week is not necessary even for children with straight hair. Kids don’t grease yet (of course, having juice and mud in the hair is an exception)

- Curly hair needs to be washed less often, depending on hair type. For adults 1 or 2 times a week, or 1 time a month, etc. all depends on the hair

- Give her a washcloth she can put in front of her eyes either for the entirety of the hair washing or tell her she can stop you at any time to take the washcloth and dry off before continuing

- if water keeps getting in her eyes, try different angles and methods. As a small child, my mother would empty cups of water over my head to wash my hair. When I was older, she started using the shower head. (And then of course when I was old enough, I started doing it myself.)

- use sensitive eye baby shampoo

- look up other techniques specifically for toddlers

- Don’t use a fine comb or brush!!! Most important tip, tbh. Depending on curl type, use a wide-pronged comb, afro pick, 🪮, comb with fingers, or for short hair maybe even don’t comb at all

- if you do comb, don’t comb in one large pull from top to bottom. Instead, start somewhere lower down (for example, 1/3rd of the length), and brush down to the tips. Then take the same strand and brush down from 1/2 of the length down to the tips. And so on. This way, you’re not pushing all the tangles on top of each other and only working on a fraction of the tangles at a time

- If you pull your kids hair and it hurts, it completely makes sense that she doesn’t want you doing that anymore. Children are people and they feel pain. Apologize to her and tell her that you’ll try to do better. If a certain procedure or style hurts every time, try a different one

My mother was always gentle and loving, and yet making my hair hurt every time. I had tears in my eyes daily from the way she pulled. I never complained because I was a stoic child, but it’s completely understandable that a less stoic child would speak up and even refuse! (In fact, it’s good if children refuse things that hurt. That’s a good skill for the future)

- try different hair ties and clips to find some that don’t hurt/ pull

- If it’s too much, prioritize what’s important and focus on that even when it’s frustrating not being able to do it all (e.g. removing mud vs stylish look)

As I said, having kids and taking care of them can be frustrating and a lot of work, but it’s important that kids don’t internalize that there is something wrong with them or their hair

somewhere out there right now is a kid with curly hair being raised by people who have wavy hair at best and those people are giving them 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner and telling them to dry brush it. and that kid is gonna spend all of middle school and high school hating their hair and moping over the flat iron. they're being told right now that if they don't dry-brush their curl pattern into oblivion every morning it means they're unkempt and gross even though they naturally have the kind of ringlets that a thousand bridezillas would commit horrible murders for every june. it's happening right now it's an absolute epidemic and a tragedy every time

[amarguerite]

Other Emily of New Moon thoughts-- I'm very fascinated by what LM Montgomery was trying to do re: all of Emily's many suitors. Some kind of vague thoughts under the cut:

Now, ever since there have been professional women writers in the Western canon, they have been reflecting on and writing about what it means to be a person your society categorizes as a woman and as a professional writer, since the two are not a natural mix socially-speaking. Hell, even today there's a lot of genre-writers who identity as or who are assigned as female who get denigrated for it in unthinking and weird ways, i.e. the devaluation of romance as a genre, fantasy/SFF writers automatically getting described as YA writers even when they aren't, clearly documented and demonstrated gaps in book advances, weird interview questions about 'having it all' or 'balancing home life and creative life' that men don't get. A lot of 19th century/ early 20th century female authors write a lot about what seems to be a sometimes mutually exclusive drive between marriage and authorship. This is strange and interesting to me because I don't see as much debate about it these days since I think... it's very rare these days in the US for two married people not to both work, and though the strict social divide between male public sphere and female private sphere isn't as prevalent. Even trad wife content pushing for it involves this weird public exploitation of so-called 'private' work-- like how private, how unemployed are you, when you are a literal content creator for the public for money? That's not to say that household work, childrearing, caretaking etc does not fall disproportionately on women but it isn't expected that a woman give up public life upon marriage, and that in many circles (most?) the major issue is not a question of propriety but of domestic labor or day job labor impeding creative work.

I could be misreading this-- maybe the question is not competing social categories, but a question purely of labor, and the difficulty of being a professional woman writer AND running a household, instead of, Austen-like, being a spinster with other female relations who run the household.

However, if we do just think about 'wife' vs 'writer' as discrete social categories, I think all the beaux Emily has are a really interesting way to disprove a then-prevelant stereotype that a female author becomes an old maid through lack of other options. Her choice of profession, or the personality that drove her to it, alienates the men around her, or makes her ineligible in some way. The basic lived reality is entirely different. It's less that writing extinguishes the more conventional passion, it's just that it can be SUCH a passion with people that anything that does not rise to that level of... emotion, or interest, or what have you, feels fundamentally incompatible with the times where you feel most alive, i.e. writing. I don't think I've ever felt more uncomfortably seen as a writer (one who is always trying to figure out, Emily-like, if I have or can ever earn the title of 'professional' with all my magazine work-- and good God, it's depressing that the pay rates are still EXACTLY THE SAME), when Emily miserably confesses that writing is a compulsion. She can't not do it. There is no choice for her but the alpine path. It is a miserable one. She is often in bleak despair about all the rejections she gets and the reviews that contradict each other, but she can't NOT climb it. She can't get off it for anyone, even a Japanese prince or for the man who almost successfully groomed her (Jesus Christ Dean Priest. That's another post.) It's one of the most... real to me. Like, yes there are other options but... are there really? When you are that called to a specific kind of work, you just can't stop it, any more than you can stop breathing or being allergic to peanuts. Why do I keep slamming myself head-first into the wall of rejections? I have no idea. I just can't not do it.

And though I don't entirely think she succeeded (in large part because we don't see enough to Teddy and understand why he's so great in the last book), I do think it's very telling that LM Montgomery points out that for this specific kind of personality, the role of 'wife' can only be a good fit when the role of 'husband' is taken on by someone who ALSO has this artistic compulsion and knows that it does require long hours of work at odd times, and a certain withdrawing from domestic concerns to get into the right flow state. Dean was a poor fit for a lot of reasons, but the primary one was that he crushed Emily's artistic spirit and impeded the real journey of her life because he wanted to BE her whole life-- Teddy was the right fit because, having been in a similar relationship with his mother, I don't think he's someone who will insist he became Emily's whole life. He's probably happier that they can both go into their creative flow states, and do their own work as they wish without the other feeling abandoned or unhappy. It just becomes parallel play. It's Art Time in the Kent Household, where we don't talk to each other for the next six hours and stay holed up in our separate rooms and we're both extremely happy with that-- that kind of a thing.

tl; dr-- I'm very compelled by how Montgomery puts her own spin on the old, old Western canon debate of wife vs writer and how she reconciles the two, even if I don't think she entirely succeeded in the execution of it.

[holoska]

after debating for weeks whether to stay very far away from the deltarune soriel discourse or let myself ramble about my faves like I want to, the latter has finally won out

I've had time to properly absorb the weight of all that happens at the end of chapter 4, and obviously I do feel for both kris and susie. that is The Point of the scenes being from their perspectives; after everything they just went through and all the worry they had for toriel's safety (for the second time in 24 hours!), the scene they come home to is maybe the most uncomfortable slap in the face possible. it sticks out to me that the last thing susie talks about before the dark fountain is sealed is her wanting tomorrow to be the same as yesterday and for everything to always be able to go back to how it was, and that's what greets them - a blatant, obnoxious sign that things are changing. even though the scene has a lighthearted side, its overall tone adds to the downcast feeling the chapter ends on.

having said that, as someone who has spent the past 9 and a half years being normal about sans and toriel, I'm still very very happy that this is a canon scene we got 💜

the fandom may be largely not considering their perspectives in the slightest (or worse, only viewing their perspectives from the most bad faith angles possible), but I for one love this for them!! as other very good posts have pointed out, toriel has been sorely in need of someone who's there for her - an awful lot of people in town saw the divorce play out and have something to say about it, the holiday family are closer to asgore than toriel, kris is her child and stuck in the middle of their parents' issues, and while she's friends with alphys, them being coworkers and alphys being kris' teacher likely puts a distance of sorts between them. but sans is new in town, someone she immediately connects with, who has no pre-existing opinions about her family and has seen firsthand what toriel has to put up with from asgore. in every universe, sans is exactly the kind of person toriel needs in her life.

there's less to work with from sans' perspective given how little we know about him, and I'm not all-in on sans being from deltarune just yet (more specifically I do love the theory, I'm just giving myself room to not be too disappointed if it doesn't happen), but the new version of it's raining somewhere else being named 'the place where it rained' emotionally destroys me forever. either way it drives home just how happy toriel makes sans in both worlds and I love that so so much :']

to be clear I'm not saying they did nothing wrong, their choices negatively impacted kris and susie and they were objectively disruptive and inconsiderate after kris went to bed. but I like that they're being messy and flawed, because it means this isn't just "my faves are getting closer in the background yippee" but that their relationship is potentially an actual part of the story, and that's how you get The Good Stuff!! we wouldn't have had meaningful character moments like noelle finally standing up to queen if queen hadn't tried to control noelle and just listened to her from the start, or susie comforting ralsei with her bloodied hand if he'd told her and kris every detail of the full prophecy the moment he met them and never kept any secrets. if all the hints towards a flower shop dark world turn out to be true then it's pretty clear the story is building things up to make those future character moments hit, and considering we still don't know what happened with the dreemurr divorce at this point, chapter 5 seems like a perfect opportunity to dive into all of that.

plus, as sweet as susie's bond with toriel is, I honestly think susie seeing this side of toriel needed to happen. a lot of the fandom's complaints about toriel right now boil down to her not being the "perfect mother" they thought she was, and what bothers me about that is toriel was never meant to be that kind of character. toby has said that she's not the classic video game protagonist's mother who sees you off on your journey and you can come home and visit any time, and nothing changes and she never has any substantial character of her own. in undertale she literally handholds frisk through the tutorial, she becomes the first boss in her attempt to protect them when every other human left her care, and once they leave she won't let them come back or even call her phone because she can't face seeing them knowing they'll leave again and likely be killed. she's more than just the mother figure of the game, she's her own person with likes and dislikes, hobbies and flaws, and a past and trauma she can't overcome until the best ending.

we've only seen the tip of the iceberg of her history in deltarune, but that same principle holds true: she isn't the perfect parent you return to after each day's adventure, who gives you butterscotch pancakes every morning and never has any real part in the story because that isn't the intent behind her character. she mentioned her loneliness back in chapter 1, kris has secrets and problems they aren't letting her in on, asgore is being relentlessly inconsiderate of her boundaries, and for all susie's praise of toriel being a good mother, I think that house of cards was going to fall eventually. my hope is that, like her blowing up at ralsei ultimately bringing them closer, susie being able to see toriel as the imperfect adult she is but one who does genuinely care might help them build a stronger bond in the end too.

I think I always knew that if soriel ever inched closer to being canon there'd be discourse about it, and toriel slander is unfortunately nothing new. people are just being annoying about it currently and it sucks when I genuinely love what's being built up here!!

anyway crossing my fingers for a scene where toriel invites sans to the festival before she gets thrown in the bunker/he gets sent to undertale/the roaring happens/all of the above 🤞

[nekropsii]

okay i want to hear your opinion on this. out of all the alpha trolls, which one do you think sucks the Worst and which one do you think sucks the least. genuinely curious

Difficult and Vague Question. Could be answered in a whole number of ways. Part of the difficulty in finding an angle in it is that Morality is highly subjective, and also some of the shit the Alpha Trolls get up to is so reprehensible it's astounding. I'm choosing a combined angle of "Worst/Least Difficult to Survive a Conversation with", and "Worst/Least Sucks Traits + Actions". This is because, for the most part, the male Alpha Trolls are generally intended to be Spineless Intolerable Misogynistic Morally Bankrupt Sex Offenders, and the female Alpha Trolls are, for the most part, Chilling.

If someone has an answer for the first question that isn't "Cronus", and that answer doesn't start with "Aside from Cronus", Stop Listening To Them. That's the point of his character. He's a Serial Child Predator, an unrepentant Sex Offender, and a Turbo-Bigot who wants to kill people for being Minorities, he's the correct answer. As far as an answer that excludes Cronus goes, the answer necessarily has to be one of the men, sans Mituna... But really, it depends on what crimes you personally can stand less that day, or which kind of guy you specifically have more trauma about. Lol. Cronus, Rufioh, Kankri, Horuss, and Kurloz are all insanely evil men in different ways. Make them coworkers at a shitty failing pub, and you'll have a sitcom for the ages.

The people who suck the least are the Women without contest, minus Meenah, and nuance for Damara.

Last bit there is probably somewhat Controversial, but, like. Damara's perfectly nice if you're not an Alpha Troll, but deservedly an utter bastard hellion if she is with them. I don't approve of her methods, but I do approve of her torturing them. We see her interact with people who are not the Alpha Trolls, and she's plenty nice to them. Makes sense, considering she was mentally broken into acting like that by other members of her team repeatedly gaslighting and victimizing her for years, rather than her just having always been Like That. Meenah is impulsive to the point of crimes happening regularly and seemingly cannot stop herself from pursuing children. Meenah's the person your Intrusive Thoughts convince you you would be if you didn't have a crippling Anxiety Disorder to "keep you in check". She's the main female exception to the rule of "The Women are Chilling and the Men are Insane Criminal Perverts". Diversity Win..?

Porrim's just a Feminist and is pretty normal, though her Social Position shows. She tends to be the default pick for "Most Normal", but since she's a woman written by Hussie, she still has some sucks traits. Latula's got issues managing her combined Mental Health problems and her insane case of Internalized Misogyny, both of which Porrim seems to be trying to help her out with. Porrim also seems to be succeeding at helping her. Good for them! Aranea might've done all of that, but she was a preventable disaster. I don't think any of that would've happened if people just listened to her for once. She had to pay her own best friend to listen to her, and even then she didn't do it. Meulin is a bit sucks, but a lot of that has to do with her main Character Traits being "Annoying Fangirl" and "Fujoshi". Even with those in mind, these aren't crimes, especially not ones of the same caliber as Cronus', and she's really funny about both things anyway. Also, she's quite passionate about Disability, particularly Deafness. As a Hearing Disabled person myself, I like this about her, so she can do anything.

My personal ranking is... Cronus is the Worst both of the men and in general, Meenah's the worst of the Women. Porrim, Meulin, and Latula are the least sucks women and likely the least sucks people in the whole cast, and Mituna is the least sucks man.

[jekyllnvibes]

I used to be Very anti-ship, because I had viscerally terrible reactions to a lot of Pro-Ship content due to trauma as a minor, and then I did what anti's keep telling people to do, and got Therapy, specifically three separate therapists, one who specializes in helping with gender dysphoria, general anxiety and depression, one who specializes in EMDR for reprocessing trauma, and one who specializes in helping people through sexual trauma, OCD, and sexual repression. The last one, after discussing my trauma with her and how it Related to the pro/anti discourse, quite literally told me I needed to remove myself from anti spaces because they were 100% enabling and reinforcing my moral OCD, and then sent me to a Childhood SA support group so that I could gain the support of other victims and understand experiences regarding it outside of my own. I learned that despite my own negative reaction to anything regarding age gap/p*dophilia/noncon, I am Not the only victim that exists and my experiences and feelings are Not universal, and a lot of other victims??? They develop kinks around those topics pretty commonly instead. One, because kinks are Developmental, (as in you Don't really get a say in what kinks you have just like you don't really get a say in anything else regarding your sexuality and sexual fantasies, and also that external factors like trauma can cause new kinks to develop whether you actually want them or not.) and Two, that these kinks, when applied to consenting adults doing a scene or in fiction, actually help a lot of victims reprocess their trauma in a way which makes them feel safe, and reclaim a lot of their experiences and feelings regarding what was done to their body for themself rather than feeling like it is all still lorded over by the memory of their abusers. So, I think pretty vehemently, if you're an anti, you should consider getting therapy and talking to someone who deals with sexual repression and moral OCD symptoms. Because "if you think about, enjoy, or are aroused by XYZ topic you're disgusting and a predator and should do something to Fix your Broken Head" is dead ass a symptom of moral OCD and sexual repression.

Any "your therapist is wrong : /" type comments will be blocked immediately, because that is Some (ignorant) Self Confidence you have, saying you think you know more than a therapist who has A) been working with SA survivors for the past twenty five years (longer than I have been alive) with almost nothing but positive feedback from their patients and B) has personally helped me to completely stop physically self harming due to my OCD, and has significantly reduced my similarly related substance abuse and emotional self harm issues as well. Like I don't trust y'all's opinion nearly as much as a dedicated professional who has done nothing but help me heal.

[yearsbecomingcool]

teenage jealousy | dmitri kravinoff

donate to gaza here | masterlist | series masterlist

pairing | college wrestler!dmitri x childhood friend/enemy!reader

synopsis | dmitri can't handle the sight of you with another guy.

warnings | 18+, nsfw, wrestler!dmitri, enemies to lovers, public humiliation, dubious consent, degradation, wedgies, fingering, dmitri has so many issues i don't feel like typing them all out, mommy kink, switch!dmitri, switch!reader, slight breast worship, and pathetic insecure dima!!

word count | 3k

a/n | loving doing wrestler!dmitri so much. i randomly developed the idea for this au with @zoovweemomma one night and now i think about it constantly. everyone should also go read one of liv's fics too (stopmysinfulhand on ao3)!! hopefully y'all are liking this au bc i have more planned.

taglist | make sure you sign up for my taglist here!! @zoovweemomma @marinaluciarossi @punkrockmlchael @Loveeatsleep @mysunshinemyangel @simonsrealwife @janis01127 @sodapop11 @yeoldebytche @allys-strawberry-garden @medievalharlot @samslvrgirl @deadpoetsharbor @alexa0813 @kawaii1kitten @spookyscarydemonbabe

“Oh? Dmitri? Don’t even worry about him…he’s not…we’re not…” You stumble over your words as you sit in the windowsill near the library. Your current crush stands in front of you, admiring how you look as the sun sets behind you. 

He smirks down at you, arms crossed over his chest. “Everyone thinks you’re secretly dating y’know…or like fucking…is it true?”

Your eyes go wide and your body heats up with embarrassment. “No! Wh-People actually think that? Are you serious? I would nev-WE would never…never in a million years…” 

“So you are single then? He’s nothing I need to worry about?” He cocks an eyebrow, leaning in towards you with a smirk.

You chuckle, “Oh please, have you seen how quickly he gets pinned during his matches. He’s nothing anyone needs to worry about on or off the mat…” 

He bites his lip looking down at you curiously, “I thought you guys were friends…”

You feel flustered, almost as if you’d been caught in a lie. You weren’t sure what you were, “It’s uh…it’s complicated…” You nervously scratch the back of your neck, looking away from him. You feel a lump in your throat as you spot him. Dmitri leans against the wall near one of the nearby trash cans. His arms are crossed over his chest as he watches the two of you, shamelessly eavesdropping on the conversation. 

Your crush turns back to see what you’re looking at and lets out a soft hiss when he sees Dmitri. “I’ll uh…talk to you later…” He rushes off quickly. 

Despite Dmitri’s lack of talent on the mat there’s a lot of people at the school who are scared of him. They know who his father is and what it means to mess with him or his family. Thanks to years spent around the Kravinoffs and other mafia men you’d grown less afraid, you also knew Dmitri would never rat you out to his father, he had his own way of teaching you a lesson about respect. 

He smirks as he approaches you, turning back briefly to sneer at the scared man you’d been speaking to only seconds before. “Sorry, I guess I scared him off. He’s pathetic anyway, he wouldn’t know what to do with you.” He’s quick to grab your wrists, pinning them at your side.

You glare up at him from your seat on the windowsill, “You don’t know what to do with me. You don’t know what to do with any women, Dmitri. Sergei gets all the girls, everyone knows that.” You’re trying to hurt his ego as best you can, you know he’s always been insecure when compared to his brother. He’s spent his entire life hearing about how much better Sergei is than him, he doesn’t need to hear it from you either.

“Oh shut up, you’re a virgin incase you forgot. I do pretty well for myself, you spend your nights alone in bed with that sad little toy buzzing between your thighs.” His words feel venomous, you definitely struck a nerve with your comment about Sergei. He uses his free hand to grip the hem of your skirt, flipping it up to expose your underwear. He snickers, reaching down to hook his fingers into the waistband of your panties. He pulls the fabric towards himself, inspecting the print. He lets go and lets the pink polka dotted fabric snap back against your hip, “These undies really aren’t helping y’know. Did you pick these out thinking he’d want to fuck you after he saw them? These are the kind of underwear that gets you stuffed into a locker or tossed into a trashcan. You don’t know the first thing about sexiness, face it dummy, you’re gonna be a virgin forever.” 

You glare up at him, kicking his knee. He groans, dropping your skirt and tightening his grip on your wrists, “Little bitch…cheapshots are all you’re good for, huh? C’mon, I wanna practice.” He yanks you up by your wrists, you squirm under his grip but he’s learned how to grip you just right over the past few weeks. You’re not getting out of this. He reaches down and tucks your skirt into the back of your panties. “Let’s show these off and maybe you’ll get a pity fuck, yeah?” He laughs. He starts leading you down the hallway as you hang your head in shame and embarrassment, you bruised his ego but he plans to shatter yours. You can feel the eyes of other students on you, there’s not many in the hall right now but there’s enough for you to know it’ll take awhile to live this down. 

He leads you over to the elevator, beaming with pride. He’s got you right where he wants you and he has no plans of letting go. The elevator door opens and he steps inside, dragging you along behind him. He pulls your face into his chest, your ass facing out to the door. He snickers as the doors shut as he hits the button for his floor, another button lighting up soon after. “Oh dummy, it looks like we’re about to have some company. Maybe they’ll give you a pity fuck…”

Anxiety rises in your chest as the elevator rises through the building, stopping at the third floor. You hear the bell ding and the doors slide open, a man stepping inside. You feel Dmitri’s free hand go down to your undies, gripping the waistband again.

Dmitri turns to the man who’s joined you in the elevator, it’s your crush who you had just been speaking to. He’d taken the stairs to avoid going anywhere near Dmitri but tired himself out quite quickly and decided he’d take the elevator up to his dorm instead. Dmitri smirks at him, glancing back down at you. “How do you feel about how she’s dressed?” Dmitri asks, he pulls your waistband slightly, the fabric pulling taut against you, some of the fabric slipping between your cheeks. He maneuvers you so that you’re arching your back slightly. 

He looks away, cheeks turning red, “I-I…what do you mean? She’s dressed uh…fine…”

Dmitri rolls his eyes, tugging your waistband a little bit tighter as you whimper against his chest. “C’mon, you can look. How do her panties make you feel? I bet you thought about fucking her earlier, maybe you even tried to get a glance at these panties. Do these turn you on, make you want her? Or do they turn you off?”

Your face feels hot against his chest, you’re grateful he can’t see your face right now because your expression is pure cringe and humiliation. 

He opens his mouth to speak, his mouth feeling dry now. “I-I mean…they’re not sexy but it’s not the worst I guess…” He feels wrong for even looking at you like this, your dignity being held in the hands of Dmitri. 

Dmitri looks down at you with a shit eating grin. “Aw Dummy, your little crush would give you a pity fuck. How sweet,” he coos mockingly. The elevator digs as we reach Dmitri’s floor, he looks back up at your crush. “Too bad you’ll never have a chance with her. Look at her again and you’ll regret it,” he threatens before leading you out of the elevator and to his dorm room. He pulls your skirt back down to cover your ass before shoving you inside the room, quickly shutting the door behind the two of you. He sits you down on his bed, finally releasing your wrists.

You glare at him as you rub your wrists and readjust your underwear, “You’re such a dick! It’s your fault I’m still a virgin, maybe someone would actually want to fuck me if you didn’t publically humiliate me all the time!” 

Dmitri scoffs and rolls his eyes, “These fucking losers wouldn’t even know where to start with you. They don’t know you like it rough, they don’t know that you like it when I’m fucking mean…god they’d feel how tight that little cunt is and blow their load before you could even feel them inside of you.”

You look up at him in annoyance, “So what? You’re the only one who can fuck me but you won’t?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at you. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated my ass…” 

He grabs your chin, holding you in place. “Why do you always have to talk back? Why do you always have to say something mean?”

“Because it turns you on, you fucking freak.”

He grips your chin tighter now, “No matter how many lessons I teach you how is it that you never fucking learn?” 

You wet your lips with your tongue, deciding to provoke him. “Maybe if Sergei was the one doing this I would behave. Why don’t you call him up for me, Dima?”

He closes his eyes like it hurts, inhaling sharply. “If I was anything like him I would’ve already laid you out. But you want it rougher? You want what Sergei would give you? Fine. Take it.” 

Before you can even speak he’s grabbing you by the shoulders, turning you on your stomach. He holds you down as he climbs onto the bed, draping himself over you. You’re both still fully dressed as he starts to rut himself against your ass. He pulls your skirt up, grabbing your underwear and ripping it off in a painful yet arousing move. “You want it like this? You want it rough? Animalistic? You want me to tell you that I can smell just how wet you are for me?” 

You moan against the sheets and nod, feeling his hand grope your ass. He brings his hand back, slapping it hard. You bite into his sheets to muffle your cry of pain. Dmitri has always been rough with you but this is different. “You really think you’d want Sergei over me? You think he could make you feel what I do? You think he would take the time out of his day to even look at you? He only comes to see me on my birthday and you think you’re so important that he’d take the time to touch you?” You can hear the hurt in his voice, it’s starting to take a different turn.

You lift your head from the mattress. “H-Hey, Dmitri let's take a second to breathe, okay?” You turn your head to look back at him. He has his face buried in your back.

You can feel the warm tears pooling against your shirt, “I’m here, I show up, I give you the time of day…not him…I know how you like it, where you like it…I-I’m better than him I swear…” He sighs against your back, slowly lifting his head. “I’ll show you how much better I am than him if you let me…” His eyes glisten with tears. 

You bite the inside of your cheek as you decide what to do, “Are you…are you okay?” 

He swallows, composing himself. “Of course I am, I’m fucking great.” His voice cracks. 

“Don’t want to keep going?” You ask softly.

He nods, “Do you?”

You nod in response, “Yeah, I do. Show me how good you are, Dmitri, show me that you know exactly what to do with me.” 

That’s all he needs to hear. He slides a hand between your thighs and another up to your breasts, groping you through your shirt as he ruts against your exposed ass. He starts to rub your inner thigh as he takes control, “I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll never think of another man…only me, only me forever. Gonna make you fucking squirt I swear to god…” He mumbles against your skin. He starts to kiss your neck, nipping at your soft flesh as he does. 

“You belong to me, everyone needs to know…my practice dummy, my girl, my…fuck mine…” He moves his hand up to your cunt. He wraps his legs around yours, flipping you so that he’s on his back while you lay on top of him. It seems like he learned something at practice. He spreads your cunt, you whine as the cool air hits it. He teases your slit with his forefinger and middle finger, using his thumb to play with your clit. He keeps your legs spread apart with his own. “You’re so fucking beautiful…gonna make you feel good…gonna prove how good I am I swear,” he babbles. 

You can’t help but smile at his praise, tears brim your eyes. You can tell he’s slipping into subspace so you take over, “You’re pretty too Dima, prettiest boy on campus…I love your eyes and your nose…fuck your nose is perfect. It’s a crime that you haven’t let me ride your face yet…you’ll let me next time, won’t you? It’d make mommy very happy…”

His eyes light up, “It would?” He increases the pressure on your clit and you whine, writhing on top of him.

“Mhm, so happy baby…so fucking happy…”

He plunges his fingers inside of you, going slow, keeping that same pressure on your clit as he toys with it. “Gonna make my mommy so happy…gonna make you feel so good…I’m just as good as Sergei…I’m better than Sergei, you don’t need him mommy, I swear. I’ll be whatever you need, whatever you want. Just tell me what you want…” He babbles as he plays with your cunt. He already knows the exact pace you like, he already knows how to control your pleasure, he’s perfect. 

“I just want you Dima, make me feel good in the way only you can…” You mumble, relaxing under his touch.

His hand comes up to grope your breasts as he fingers you, he kneads your breast softly in his hand, taking his time to massage the delicate flesh. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, causing you to whine pathetically at the slight pain that comes from it. He presses down harder on your clit as he moves onto your other breast, he’s doing his best to get you to the edge as quickly as he can. “Does this feel good, Dummy?” He asks softly, the nickname coming out almost lovingly. 

You moan, “So good Dima, keep touching me like that and I’ll come in no time…” You’re writhing on top of him, complete putty in his hands. He uses his legs to spread yours even further apart, allowing him full access to your body. You’d let him do whatever he wanted at this point as long as it meant he’d let you come.

He sucks another hickey into your skin before slowing his movements, causing you to whine. “You wanna come?”

You roll your eyes, “Of course I wanna come, Dmitri, nobody wakes up begging for blue balls…”

He slaps your clit and you yelp. “Don’t be a smartass or I will blue ball you. I want you to repeat something for me and maybe after that I’ll let you come.”

“Go on then, don’t keep mommy waiting, Dima,” you order. You’re both battling to be in charge and neither one of you is winning. 

He nips at your earlobe, tugging at it softly before pulling away. “Yeah, you need me to make you come mommy? You wanna come all over my fingers, want me to be your good boy and make you feel good? Is that what you deserve, mommy?” He makes slow circles against your clit. 

You whine softly at his teasing, “Dima you know I need it, you know I deserve it…”

He shakes his head, tutting softly, “Prove it to me. Prove that you deserve it, tell me I’m better than that fucking loser you talked to earlier, tell me I’m better than Sergei. Prove that you want me.” Poor sweet Dmitri, he’s got his fingers buried deep in your cunt and yet he’s still worried you don’t want him. 

You chew at your lower lip until you’re able to speak. “You’re so good, Dima…such a good boy for mommy, god…the way you touch me and manhandle me is so intoxicating.” He keeps playing with your clit as you speak. 

He starts to kiss your neck, “Go on, Mommy, keep going.” 

You wet your lips with your tongue before continuing, “You make me feel so good, every time you touch me my body feels like it’s on fire…no one could touch me like this, make me feel this good. I don’t need anyone else, Dima, I just need you.”

He smirks against your neck, “And why is that? Why do you just need me?” 

You gulp, trying to compose yourself before continuing. The way he works his fingers inside of you is making you a whiney squirmy little mess. “Because those fucking losers could never touch me like you…not any of my crushes, not Sergei, just you Dima…just you…”

He moves his hand away from your breast, using it to turn your head just enough to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. He nips and sucks at your lower lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth, exploring like he hasn’t done this hundreds of times by now. You’ve both adapted to one another, if you tried to kiss someone else you’re not sure if you could, it would be like your first kiss all over again. He manages to hit the spot you’ve been begging him to, bringing you to your climax. You pull away just to moan his name, throwing your head back against him as you writhe and moan on top of him. It’s a bliss even better than what you’ve felt before, he knows how to work your body just right, how to get you closer to pure bliss than you could ever get yourself. He works you through it as you come down from your high, whispering sweet praise. “Took it so well, you always do…so pretty and all mine, just mine…”

He holds you against himself, starting to stroke your hair as he unwraps his legs from yours, finally giving you a chance to stretch out. “I’m sorry if I was too rough…I couldn’t stand the way he looked at you. You’re too good for him…too good for me too…” The last part comes out so softly you almost don’t hear it. 

You finally speak, “You weren’t, if it was too much I’d say something, you should know that by now Dima.” You roll off him, laying next to him in his dorm bed. You look up at the popcorn ceiling, taking in what’s happened today. Every second around Dmitri is like a strange rollercoaster ride. You inch your hand closer to his, linking your pinky with his. He’s so fucked up and strange but you can’t get enough of him. He interlocks his fingers with yours, taking your hand in his. You turn to face him with a soft smile, “Should I take care of that for you?” You glance down at his obvious bulge in his pants. 

He bites his lip and nods, a desperate look in his eyes. “Fuck, mommy, please…”

[r473n]

BLEACH SMUTFEST

DAY 4 : FAVORITE SHIP -> KENMAYU!!

Crash mid-air

I know, shocker.

Anywayz MDNI, TW: Modern AU, Enemies to lovers, high school bully, lots of tropes, you'll be sick of me, trans man Mayuri, smut, oral sex.

6k word count

Link to Ao3

“This is an announcement for passengers on flight number 2245 to London. The flight has been delayed due to adverse weather conditions. New departure time is 9.35 pm. We appreciate your patience and understanding.”

A communal groan reverberated from one tired person to the next in the crowded sitting area at the second delay of the evening.

Sitting alone at the bar, lazily stirring his martini, Mayuri rolled his eyes.

It was predictable. The blizzard could still be heard, strong wind charging against the windows, heavy sleet falling hard on the roof.

What were those people expecting? That they’d magically come up with a way to fly planes through such horrendous weather in the last two hours? Although, if the complaint was about the patronising tone, then he was on board.

“This seat taken?” A man asked him, as he waited to be served.

“No.” He replied, not lifting his gaze from the mesmerising twirl of iridescent liquids of different densities mixing inside his glass.

“All flights are grounded, it’s chaos ain’t it? Blizzard was supposed to be over by now.”

“Predictions of the weather are famously unreliable.” He muttered cuttingly. If there was anything worse than having to wait for a plane to finally take him home after a long week working away, it was having to do it whilst engaging in small talk.

“Yeah.” The man chuckled.

He had a great voice, Mayuri thought, low and husky... very sexy. He surreptitiously glanced at him and had to do a double take - he knew that man... he knew that man very well.

Taller, older, hair much longer now, a nasty scar down the side of his face. Casual outfit of jeans and a shirt that struggled to wrap itself around a thick, muscular chest and broad shoulders. He had changed so much, he was... attractive? Well, he had always been Mayuri’s personal reminder that life just wasn’t fair...

But the issue was - had he recognised him? Mayuri shuffled uncomfortable in his chair. Surely not, he looked nothing like he did at sixteen. He simply needed to inconspicuously slide off his seat and disappear into the multitude.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be as simple as he had hoped, for the man kept glancing at him out of the corner of his eye and tapping his fingers nervously on the bar. He was just about to snap at him to mind his own business when the guy stood up, chugged his drink in one go and left. Mayuri let out a slow sigh of relief, the tension slowly leaving his shoulders.

Another hour had gone past and his flight was still no closer to boarding, he was beginning to lose hope that he’d ever leave that cursed airport.

On his fourth martini, down to his waistcoat, sleeves rolled up for comfort, he tried to distract himself by revising the notes from his last case. Akon, his assistant, had done a tremendously good work, he needed to reward him in some subtle way when he got back... wouldn’t want it to get to his head too much.

“Oi, can I get another whiskey? Ain’t looking good for us, is it? You know anything?” The six-foot-seven giant had come back and was now asking the waitress, who shook her head no with a sympathetic smile.

Shit, Mayuri thought, I knew I should have just left this bar.

“Hey...” the guy tapped him on the shoulder! What fresh hell was this?? “I'm sorry to disturb you, but I can’t help myself.”

“Oh, I'm sure you can, make a little effort.” Mayuri retorted in a scathing tone.

“I just... we know each other. Do you not remember me? Not at all?”

Mayuri pierced him with a withering stare. “No.”

“Uh... I'm Kenpachi, Kenpachi Zaraki, we went to high school together.”

“I have my doubts you attended any secondary school at all, let alone my own. The chances of two students from that hellhole meeting in the lobby of a remote international airport are astronomic.”

“Yeah, I know! But we definitely went together.”

“Hmm... be that as it may, high school was full of forgettable faces, I'm afraid.”

“I remember yours.”

“It’s a big world, I'm sure many people look like me. You have me confused with someone else.”

The man let out a chuckle. “Ain’t no way, Kurotsuchi, I know who you are.”

Mayuri clenched his jaw, the jig was up. He peered at him with annoyance. “Very well, we do seem to be acquaintances. Satisfied yet?”

Zaraki slid onto the stool he had precipitously abandoned before, facing him. “Shit... How long has it been? Ten? Twenty years?”

“Eighteen.”

“Yeah... that’s a whole life time.”

“A very short one. Like this conversation.” He began to tidy up his belongings, determined to put an end to that ridiculous charade.

“Wait! Where you going? We're stuck in here, ain’t we?”

“Doesn’t mean we must wait together.”

“No... but we could. Want a refill?”

Mayuri stopped before putting his jacket back on. Zaraki was right, where else was he supposed to go? There was no other bar in the area he was restricted to, and he wasn’t going to wait another however many hours dry...

“Tsk... very well, as long as you’re paying.” He grumbled, annoyed.

“Fair. Not that you need it, I see life treats you well... fancy suit, tailored, big fat Rolex... nice shoes too. Guess you did become a doctor?”

“Lawyer.”

“Huh, not bad!” Zaraki looked truly impressed. He ordered another round before resuming the conversation. “You got a card? Wouldn’t mind some friendly advice if I ever get in trouble.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’d want me in your corner.”

“You gonna tell me you ain’t that good?”

Mayuri stared at him, was he really that oblivious? Did he really not remember? “Conflict of interests.” He responded tersely.

“Oh, yeah, never work for a friend and that, uh?”

“Not how I’d put it.”

The server placed their drinks carefully in front of them. “Did you stay in the country?”

“Moved down south, more money.”

“More expensive too. I still live home, same town, same house. My folks died a few years after graduation, I... uh, never moved out.”

“Can’t say I'm surprised.” Mayuri took a sip of his cocktail and allowed himself to properly look at him. There was something odd, something different. The boy he knew could still be seen in the cheeky smirk, the chipped front tooth, souvenir from one of his many mischievous adventures, the twinkle in his grey eyes. But there was something else now, a maturity, a manliness that went beyond the handsome square jaw, the curly hairs peeking through the loose top buttons of his shirt, the strong hands, gently holding that tiny cup... there was a confidence, a self-assurance, an openness that had Mayuri feeling weirdly relaxed, something he couldn’t have predicted in a million years. “What is surprising is you stepping out of the door, let alone traveling to Europe.”

“Yeah, not my thing really, planes. But I do this trip often.”

“How so?” Why did he feel so curious?

“Oh, uh... I have a daughter. She lives here, with her mum.”

“You got married?” Why did he feel so disappointed?

“Yeah, Retsu Unohana, remember her? She was two years above us.”

“Yes, of course I remember her!” Mayuri worried his lip, Zaraki’s eyes immediately stuck to it, pupils dilating minutely. “Divorced?” he asked on a hunch.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Freshly divorced men riddled with guilt are my speciality.” He grinned irreverently, not expecting Zaraki to catch the double meaning of his words. “Living almost fifteen hundred miles away from each other tipped me off... Plus the way you sheepishly answered the question whilst fidgeting with your wedding ring. It was either that or the prelude to it. I guess it’s recent?”

“Uh, not really... it’s been a few years. I- I should just take it off, to be honest.”

“I see... So, you haven’t moved on. Is it because you’re still as emotionally stunted as you were as a teen, or is it an attempt to manipulate your ex into feeling sorry for you and taking you back?”

Zaraki recoiled and stared at him in shock, a flicker of anger in his eyes. Mayuri gulped hard, internally cursing his tongue. A sudden surge of adrenaline rushed through his veins, readying him to jump out of the way if he lunged, but after a couple of seconds, Zaraki just burst out laughing.

“Fuck me, Kurotsuchi...” he wheezed, banging his fist on the wooden bar. “I forgot how much of a witty bastard you were. Shit, it’s refreshing.” He took the ring off and pocketed it before brushing a stray strand of jet-black air away from his face. “It’s neither, by the way. I have moved on, I'm just used to wearing it, that’s all. Feel kinda naked without it. Plus, it’s easier to avoid being hit on.”

Mayuri let go of the breath he’d been holding and took a swag of alcohol to steady his nerves.

“She’s remarried... to a woman by the way.” Zaraki explained casually. “Can’t blame her, Isane is much prettier than me, less angry too.”

“Kotetsu?” he exclaimed, almost choking on his drink. He grabbed a tiny napkin and dabbed the dribble off his chin.

“Yeah.”

“Wasn’t she the one who had a massive crush on professor Ukitake? Always tripping over herself to assist him?”

“Nah, that was the younger one, whatever her name.”

“Oh, yes, Kiyone. Isane was the older one... very quiet, almost blended with the walls. Who would have thought... opposites do attract, I guess.”

“Well, Retsu is much... milder now. She calmed down after we had Yachiru.” Zaraki said, reclining on the bar, closer to him. “They’re quite alike now, if you can believe it.”

“I’m struggling to.” He admitted, feeling a tingle run down his spine at the way Zaraki smiled at him. It was nice... No! What was he thinking? It was reckless and stupid. Like betting your life on a rollercoaster that probably never passed a health and safety check just to obtain a few seconds of intense trepidation, hanging at the highest point, awaiting the imminent drop and wondering if you’d be the unlucky bastard that meets their end when statistics determine that the thing must malfunction.

“But, enough about me, what about you?” Zaraki's interrupted his mental ramblings, “Married? Kids?”

“I... No, to both.” He lied. He wasn’t interested in being quite that honest. “Nothing much has changed for me.”

“Huh, that ain’t true... you’re a dude now...” the brute stated matter-of-factly. “Maybe you always were, but it weren’t as obvious.”

“I suppose something did change.” He admitted, a little stiffly. “My name is Mayuri now.”

“Mayuri...” Zaraki let the name sit on his tongue as if to savour it. “I like it, suits you better.”

Mayuri let out a nervous puff of laughter, unsure what to do with the small silence that came after. Zaraki’s beady eyes were scanning him, watching every little twitch, every micro expression. It was making him feel like a gazelle about to be pounced on by a predator, his hands were clammy, his stomach fluttery.

“You still dye your hair blue, that ain’t changed.” Zaraki pointed out, shifting slightly closer.

“True.” Mayuri looked down, their knees were touching.

“I like the style, sharp, elegant... broads will be all over you.”

“I'm not in...” Mayuri trailed off, unsure if he even wanted to finish the sentence.

“Not into women?”

“I didn’t say that, I'm not into anyone.” His heart was beating savagely, he was sure it might break through his ribcage if Zaraki got any closer.

“Oh, you ace?” the man raised his eyebrows. “So is my kid.”

“No, I’m not ace, I'm just... busy.”

“Uh... you gotta have fun, Kurotsuchi, life ain’t worth much otherwise.”

“My work is fun.” He countered, defensively.

“Hah! Sure, a nerd to the end, uh?” Zaraki smirked, amused by his angry scowl. He patted him on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper, “I'm only joking...”, so close that Mayuri almost swooned.

He smelled so good, sandalwood, cedar, something spicy and warm. Mayuri shook his head, trying to clear it of less than appropriate thoughts and shrugged Zaraki’s hand off.

“What- uh... what do you do for a living?” he asked, hoping to divert the attention from himself.

“Me? Same old, same old – security. Started as a bouncer, then got my old man’s business when he croaked it and made it bigger. Bit boring now, got so many folk working for me I don’t really get much action. They know to call me when the big guns are needed,” he winked, flexing his massive biceps. “When things get serious, ya know? I get bored with the easy stuff. Yumi and Ikkaku work for me, remember them?”

“Clear as day.” Mayuri muttered, eyes still glued to his arm, now resting on his thigh.

“You ever come back? To see your folks or anything?” Zaraki queried, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Occasionally, not often.”

“Shame... well, if you do, drop by. I'll fire up the barbie, put a few steaks on... you ain’t vegan, are you?”

“No...”

“Good! A few bears... just the guys, it’ll be fun!”

Just the guys... It was extremely bizarre that the man that ruined his teen years, was the first and only person to accept his transition without skipping a beat, so naturally. “Yeah, maybe.” Even more bizarre was the fact that he was considering his offer.

Another charged silence fell around them, time seemed to stand still, until the sound system broadcasted:

“This is a general announcement - all flights are cancelled overnight and until further notice, due to unforeseen weather complications. We apologise for the inconvenience and appreciate your cooperation and understanding.”

“Shit, guess we gotta rough it tonight, uh?” Zaraki turned around, his back against the bar, elbows resting on it, and surveyed the area. “You think we can drag a few of those chairs together? Shitty makeshift bench beats cold floor, right?”

“I made a reservation at the airport hotel when my plane was delayed a second time.” Mayuri informed him, finishing his drink in one gulp and sliding off his stool.

Zaraki let out a husky laugh, “Of course you did. Plan B Kurotsuchi! Always has an ace up his sleeve, always thinking ahead, uh? You were right, you haven’t really changed much.” He put his hand forth for a shake. “Well, it was nice seeing you, catching up.”

Mayuri politely accepted the gesture, a thrill shooting up his arm at the warm touch. “Bye.” he breathed, his voice catching in his throat.

He grabbed his briefcase and made for the escalator, feeling strangely weak at the knees.

-

His room was pleasant enough, on one side a large bed and a door to the en suite, on the other, a small sitting area with a tv, coffee table and two-seater couch. The mattress was comfortable, the room clean, quiet, cool... all the criteria conducive to a good night's sleep. Yet, no matter how much he turned and tossed, he couldn’t doze off. He needed another drink.

-

He expected to find Zaraki’s massive frame curled up in an uncomfortable foetal position, half hanging off a long bench, but instead, he found him exactly where he’d left him.

“May I have a bottle of vodka, please?” He ordered at the bar, startling him.

“Hey, you’re back!” the man locked his phone screen - not before Mayuri caught sight of the logo of his firm’s website - and took off his reading glasses, a little embarrassed.

“I am.”

“Throwing a party?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“Yeah, same. Used to be able to fall asleep standing up, you know? Age doesn’t forgive.” He tipped his glasses, pointedly.

“Yeah.” Mayuri frowned his brows, convinced he was going to regret it as soon as the words came out of his mouth. “Would you like to spend the night with me?” Shit, what did I just say???

Zaraki’s mouth fell open.

 “There is a couch!” He rushed to explain, his ears burning. Aren’t I right at predictions! “The- there is a couch in my room, you can use it. It’s far from ideal but it’ll be softer than hard plastic.” He nodded at the chairs.

“You don’t gotta do this. I just like to moan, I'll be fine.”

“Suit yourself, but I wouldn’t offer out of obligation. It doesn’t matter to me, with this...” He gestured at the unopened bottle the server had just pulled down for him. “I’ll be asleep in no time, even if you snore.”

“I actually do, but I don’t think it’s that bad.”

“Great, then my offer stands.”

“Wow, I really appreciate it, I owe you big.”

“Yes, you do.” He grumbled, looking to the side, his cheeks still on fire.

“Ok, let me get this, at least.” Kenpachi offered, taking out his wallet. “Can we have a bottle of whisky too, please? Ta much.”

--

Back in the room, Mayuri did his best to ignore the excited mix of feelings swirling in the pit of his stomach. He had put his Egyptian cotton pyjamas back on and gotten into bed, propped up on some pillows, and was carefully sipping vodka out of a paper cup while he tried to finish Akon’s report. Alas, his brain refused to take in a single word, no matter how many times he re-read the same paragraph.

Why? Oh, that might be one riddle we may never unravel... In a completely unrelated subject, Zaraki had gone for a shower...

He had been singing ‘I feel good’ slightly off key in a low baritone while the water ran, to then come out encased in a puff of mist, still humming merrily and wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

Mayuri's eyes kept darting to the round muscles of his back, the coarse hairs peppering his still damp chest, the thick happy trail that descended down the valley of his abs into...

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, his mouth literally watering.

With his back to him, having finished answering whatever messages on his phone, Zaraki untucked the towel and let it crumble in a heap on the floor, giving him an unobstructed view of his perfect, hard ass.

“Zaraki!” Mayuri squealed, covering his eyes – and flushed cheeks - with his hand. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

“What?” the man turned around, oblivious or intentionally, Mayuri couldn’t tell, too busy trying not to have a heart attack. “We’re both dudes, right?”

“Please, tell me you have appropriate nightwear.”

“You’re lucky I even brought these.” He laughed, grabbing a pair of black boxers out of his rucksack and slipping into them.

“You have no decency...”

“I ain’t the one peeking through my fingers.”

Mayuri dropped his hand and gasped, outraged. “How dare you? I wasn’t peeking!”

“Shame, might have enjoyed it...” Zaraki pierced him with a leering stare, still grinning. “Sorry, not everyone can sleep dressed up like Scrooge McDuck.”

“Scrooge Mc- These are just normal pyjamas, there is nothing wrong with them!”

“You are only missing the little top hat.”

Mayuri scoffed with annoyance. “You haven’t changed at all, have you? I should have never shown you kindness.”

“I’m just joking! Man, no wonder kids used to pick on you, it's so easy to rile you up!” he laughed, taking a swig of whisky straight from the bottle.

“Of course, I'm to blame!” So the asshole does remember.

“Well, if you weren’t so stuck up and learnt to take yourself less seriously, you wouldn’t be such easy prey.” Zaraki plopped himself in the middle of the sofa, directly opposite to him, his arms on the headrest, slowly man spreading while smiling like a smug bastard.

“There is absolutely no point in arguing with you.” Mayuri made absolutely certain to keep his eyes trained on Zaraki’s, so they wouldn’t stray to his crotch.

“Huh... Killjoy.”

“Do you think this is fun?”

“Yeah! Don’t ya?”

“No! It's maddening!”

“Tsk, fine.” Zaraki huffed, sliding a cushion over to cover his lap and deflating a little.

“You can’t possibly have thought that your constant teasing was in any way enjoyable for me?”

“I... dunno, I thought we were... you know, reminiscing about the old days.”

“The old days? You mean school? Oh, sure, because we had such great times back then.”

“Yeah, we did! We were always together, laughing, having fun!”

“YOU were having fun, moron, I was miserable!”

“No, you weren’t.” He argued, suddenly angry. “Why did you talk to me before, then? Why did you invite me up if you hate me so much?”

“I don’t know! For a moment I thought you’d maybe grown up and that you were different, mature. Obviously, I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

“You're lying.”

Mayuri got out of bed and stomped towards him, gesticulating angrily as he spoke. “When exactly did you think I was enjoying myself? When you and your gang of misfits followed me around making vulgar noises every time I tried to speak? When you hid my homework right before it was due? When you made hurtful jokes about my looks? When you stole my hearing aids and made me beg for them? When you came up with a new nickname, more humiliating than the one before? Huh? Should I go on? Write you a damn list?”

“No, that’s enough.”

Mayuri crossed his arms over his chest, fuming, chewing the inside of his cheek to stop himself ranting any longer - it would only serve to raise his blood pressure, Zaraki was never going to see the error of his ways.

The man had gone silent for so long that Mayuri just turned around, ready to switch off the lights and go to sleep. He couldn’t wait for the night to be over.

“I'm sorry, Kurotsuchi.” Zaraki’s whisper stopped him in his tracks.

“What did you just say?”

“I'm sorry, I didn’t think... I thought we were just messing around... You pranked me too!”

“I exacted revenge, there’s a difference.”

“Huh... so you really hated me?”

“Yes!” He seemed so upset that Mayuri’s rage fizzled a little. “I did... But that’s not relevant anymore, water under the bridge.”

“Yeah... but it ain’t really, is it?” Zaraki sighed wistfully, staring off into the distance. “Shit like that... it fucks you up for life. I'm sorry if I made it worse, if I pushed you into... changing.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I don’t care about you that much. Transitioning was the best choice I ever made for myself, you don’t get to take that joy and freedom away from me.”

“Good.” Zaraki nodded, looking relieved. “You don’t gotta believe me but I really thought we were friends, I really liked you... I wasn’t smart like you, I didn’t do well in class, I would have never caught your eye otherwise.”

Mayuri scoffed, incredulous. “Oh, bullshit. Do you really want me to believe that you had no clue? I avoided you like the plague yet you targeted me relentlessly.”

“I swear! I was an idiot and clearly went at it the wrong way, but I’m being honest. Ain’t got no need to lie to you, Kurotsuchi.”

The man had a point... and if there was anyone stupid enough to confound bullying with camaraderie it was him. “You are ridiculously dim-witted, you know?”

Zaraki flashed him a lopsided smile, “Yeah... sorry.”

“Stop apologising, it’s pathetic.” He complained, petulantly. He grabbed his vodka bottle and slumped next to him on the couch.

“Huh, this didn’t go the way I imagined it at all.”

“Excuse me?”

“Seeing you again after all them years... Didn’t think for a second that we’d argue so much.”

“What did you think?”

“Thought you’d be happy to see me, for a start. I think about you loads.” Zaraki admitted, brushing an invisible speck of dust off his ‘modesty’ cushion.

“What?”

“No-not in a creepy way!” He quickly explained. “Just, dunno, I wondered where you’d be, what your life would be like, stuff like that.”

“How so? Why the interest?” Mayuri queried impatiently, annoyed at himself for caring so much.

“Guess just... dunno... Think about most folk we went to school with.” He mumbled, a pink blush spreading across his high cheeks.

“Right...” he was being so cagey, it was obvious he was lying, but Mayuri didn’t want to push his luck. Not yet.

Zaraki rummaged inside a small side pocket of his bag before producing a tattered old piece of metal. He brought it to his mouth and blew through it, producing a high pitched, horrible sound.

“Oh, god... what in the name of hell is this?” Mayuri asked, lowering the volume on his hearing aids.

“Harmonica blues.” Zaraki replied casually before resuming the auditory torture.

Mayuri rolled his eyes and took a long sip of vodka, hoping the alcohol would dull his suffering. “You just won’t stop punishing me, will you?”

The first few notes cut the air like a blunt knife, but once he had warmed up, Zaraki seemed to actually be decent at it. He began playing a catchy bluesy riff, his large hands cupping the instrument almost lovingly as he marked the beat tapping his foot on the laminate.

“So, you seeing anyone?” he queried between notes.

“No, told you, I'm a busy man.” Mayuri observed his long fingers move, mesmerised.

“Hmm... You know, there was a rumour that you and Urahara were doing it.” He stared at him and played another bit, a smirk brightening his eyes.

“Oh, really?” Mayuri laughed, amused. “Not in a million years, I hated him.”

“Huh...”

Zaraki’s lips glided side to side over the harmonica, Mayuri couldn’t pull his eyes off of them , beginning to feel a little jealous. “He ended up doing Yoruichi in her dad’s Merc, though.” He mumbled, stupidly.

“Wait, what?” The man stopped suddenly, “I thought her and that tiny dyke... what was her name...”

“Sui-Feng.”

“That’s it! Yeah! Thought they were dating.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t...”

“Ooh...”

“She was unbearable too.”

“Huh... she was loud for how small she was.” Zaraki furrowed his eyebrows and went back to his music, getting lost in the melody for a long minute.

Mayuri found himself starting to miss the gruff sound of his voice. “I heard once that Kuchiki was getting blown in the toilets by Abarai, but I never confirmed it.” He commented, hoping that revelation would keep the conversation going.

But Zaraki didn’t seem impressed. “Yeah, they did that a lot. They are married now.” He muttered quickly, returning his mouth to the harmonica as if there hadn’t been an interruption.

“I hated him too... Byakuya, what a prick.” Mayuri muttered under his breath.

Zaraki chuckled, his chest gently shaking. “You hated a lot of folk, Kurotsuchi, I’m starting to wonder if the issue weren’t us... How d’you know so much stuff if you weren’t friends with anyone?”

“I’m very observant.” 

Zaraki maintained eye contact with him while he finished the song. “What about you then?” he asked inquisitively, setting the small harmonica aside. “Who did you fancy?”

“No one, you all disgusted me.” Mayuri replied sincerely.

“Oh...”

“What about you? Or did you have eyes only for Unohana?”

“Erm... yeah.” Zaraki lowered his gaze, blushing prettily again and stirring Mayuris's predatory instinct.

“Oh... now, this is going to be a juicy piece of goss, isn’t it?” he scooted closer to Zaraki, who hugged the cushion reflexively.

“What?”

“You’re lying, you got flustered... you’re ashamed of something. Oh, yes, this is going to be good!”

“I’m not... Stop looking at me like that.” The man squeezed himself against the back of the couch.

“Come on, I'm a lawyer, there is no way you can lie to me.” He said, licking his lips and leaning closer. “Come on, tell me.”

“I... I can’t.”

“Why? I'll grant you client confidentiality, come on...”

“N-no, you really don’t wanna know, trust me.”

“Yes, I do!” Mayuri exclaimed, losing his patience. He never liked being told no. He got closer still, almost on top of Zaraki’s semi naked form, trying to coax the truth out of him. “Who was it? Why won’t you tell me?”

“I... you won’t believe me anyway.”

“Was it a teacher? Was it Ms Hikifune? You always had a thing for older women... Did you have sex with her and that’s why you can’t say?”

“No! Wasn’t a teacher...”

“Aw, come on, don’t leave me like this, I need to know!” he shook the man by his brawny shoulder, feeling the muscles tense under his fingers.

“Quit it!” Zaraki finally shoved him away. “Geez, you’re annoying!” he peered at Mayuri out of the corner of his eye, calculating. “Fuck it, we ain't ever gonna see each other after this, I guess... But don’t freak out, ok?”

“Sure.” He promised, excitedly.

“It was you. I had a massive crush on you.”

Mayuri blinked twice, stunned into silence and then threw his head back and burst into a mad fit of laughter. “No, you didn’t!” he wheezed, hugging his sides.

“Told ya you wouldn’t believe me.” Zaraki grumbled, clearly irritated.

“You didn’t like me...” He argued between giggles, trying to calm down enough to speak. “You thought I was a weirdo, a freak!”

“Nah, I only said that to piss you off. Always liked your eyes, that honey colour, almost golden... You were real pretty. Smart, too.”

“Oh, well...” Mayuri chuckled breathlessly. “Must have been a disappointment to meet me again after all these years of unbearable yearning... and find I’d changed so much.”

Zaraki simply huffed noncommittally.

“So, all those times you bullied me... to your incredibly slow mind... you were flirting?” Mayuri queried, wiping the tears that had formed at the corner of his eyes.

“Yeah, maybe... Badly.”

“Oh, certainly.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds before Zaraki spoke again, in a low voice.

“If I hadn’t... you know... would I- would you have- uh... did I ever have a chance?”

“A chance?”

“With you. Would you have considered it?”

“Back then? Absolutely not. You were the most obnoxious boar I ever met.”

“Uh...”

“However, now... I might reconsider.”

Zaraki’s eyes darted to his at the speed of light. “You- you would? Are you messing with me, Kurotsuchi?”

He smirked. “Of course I am.”

“Oh...” he averted his gaze again, deflated.

Mayuri felt electrified, bold, he placed his hand on his chest and caressed it softly, relishing the surprised gasp that escaped the man’s throat. He flung the cushion away and straddled his lap, Zaraki’s hands immediately finding his hips to bring him closer.

“Fuck, Kurotsuchi...”

“Shut up and kiss me before I change my mind.”

Their lips clashed in a steaming-hot, open-mouthed kiss, hands roaming and exploring each other’s bodies. Mayuri began grinding down on him, feeling high at the way Zaraki’s cock quickly filled up with blood.

The over the clothes caresses didn’t last long, Kenpachi tried to undo his top but ended up losing his patience and ripping it open, buttons scattering in all directions. Mayuri couldn’t bring himself to be mad at him, the gesture had been so damn hot he had somehow lost control of his unruly throat. He was now releasing breathy moans as Zaraki mouthed his exposed skin, leaving tingly pecks down the slope of his neck, biting down on his pulse, a hand at the back of his head to keep him in place.

He moved to lie on the couch, bringing Zaraki down on top of him and sneaked his legs around his waist to dry hump him, Kenpachi’s hard cock rubbing all the right spots with perfect precision.

Zaraki kept kissing a trail down his chest, along his faded scars, sucking bruises on his ribs, his hands slowly lowering the hem of his trousers.

“Do you wanna top or bottom?” he murmured against his damp skin.

Mayuri harrumphed, his throat dry from moaning. “I’m... I don’t carry a functional dick with me to work trips, I can’t top you.”

“That’s ok, next time.”

“Isn’t that optimistic of you...”

With a chuckle, Zaraki continued worshipping his body, licking and nibbling the inside of his thighs and calves - as if he had a map of his most sensitive spots - until he had removed the garment completely. He then made his way back, slowly teasing Mayuri into insanity, and settled against his heat, where he was most needed.

Kurotsuchi let out a filthy groan and fisted a handful of his mane without quite pulling yet. The feeling of that scorching tongue lapping at his core, sucking on his Tdick like it was the most delicious treat, was enough to make him almost lose his self-restrain.

It wasn’t until he had turned the lawyer into a moaning, sighing mess, that Zaraki stood up and took his boxers off. Mayuri chewed his lower lip, staring unashamedly at his cock this time - he needed it stuffing each and every one of his holes.

The man stroked himself a few times, spreading the precum gathered at the reddened tip up and down his shaft as he greedily took in the view of Mayuri’s perfect body.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he questioned.

Whether he was simply obtaining explicit consent or testing the boundaries around Mayuri dysphoria, the answer didn’t change. “Yes!”

“Yes... fuck, ain’t you eager.” he lined himself up with Mayuri’s entrance and slowly drove his hips forwards until he was fully inside him. Both men exhaled in unison, overwhelmed with just how good it felt. Zaraki set up a nice rhythm of slow thrusts, sliding out a few inches before ramming himself back inside him, knocking the air out of his lungs.

Mayuri wasn’t idle himself, he let his needy hands travel up and down that muscular back, digging his manicured nails into it when the pleasure became too much to endure and sucking hard on the flesh of his shoulders, keen to leave his mark somewhere visible.

“Ah... fuck, Kurotsuchi you feel so damn good...”

“So do you, shit I knew you would be big, but not this big- Hmm... oh, yes, right there, don’t move... aaah...”

The pressure in his lower belly tightening into a ball of fire, Mayuri felt himself falling into a spiral of ecstasy, impossibly intense surges of pleasure numbing his mind, turning him blind and deaf to the world outside their little bubble of lust.

“Ah... fuck! You are driving me mad, Kurotsuchi, shit, you’re cumming all over me...” Fighting the urge to follow, Zaraki kept rocking his hips at a steady tempo, trying to prolong Mayuri’s climax for as long as he was able, before slowing down.

The man had an enviable stamina. Once Mayuri had recovered a little, he carried him to the bed, there he flipped him from one position to the next for hours on end, as if wanting to practice the whole book of Kamasutra until he’d turned his brain to mush one orgasm at a time.

Face down on the bed with Zaraki straddling his legs, his fat cock pounding his insides without mercy, Mayuri came yet again, making an absolute mess of the sheets and muffling his moans against the pillow.

“I’mmmm... n- more... no m-more, please.” He babbled, completely spent.

“Is that it? That all you got, Kurotsuchi?”

“All I got? As... as en-ticing as death by overstimulation may ss-sound, I... I want to live!”

“Tsk... weakling.” Zaraki chuckled.

“How can you last... so damn long?” he panted.

Zaraki’s erection hadn’t faded in the slightest despite the many hours they’d been at it. “I don’t want this to end, you feel too good.” He said, kissing his upper back and slowly pulling out. “Fuck, you have a sexy ass.” He commented, pinching it as he stroked himself, Mayuri’s slick acting as lubrication.

“Hmmm... maybe next time.”

“Oh, really? Next time, uh?” The man kept fondling his ass, gliding his cock between his cheeks to bring himself back to the edge. “Shit, I'm going to cum. Turn around, I want you to watch me.”

Mayuri rolled onto his back with a groan, feeling weak as jelly, but the view was certainly worth it. Zaraki’s hand flying over his length, his chest heaving up and down, beads of sweat adorning his temples. His breaths ragged, his eyes roaming all over Mayuri’s body.

“Come in my mouth, don’t make a mess.”

Shuffling forwards just in time, Zaraki brought the head of his cock to his lips, hissing with pleasure at the contact and immediately losing it, he gushed thick, milky cum into his open mouth, groaning and grunting and twitching with every spurt. “Fuck... you’re so fucking handsome Kurotsuchi, even better looking covered in my cum...”

Mayuri wanted to argue that it wasn’t a very nice compliment, if only to hide the fact that he was hoping to be covered in his cum every day for the rest of his life. But before he could say anything, Zaraki had lunged to kiss him, stealing a taste of himself before collapsing next to him on the bed.

“Fuck me... that was insane.” He muttered breathlessly.

Cleaning himself with the corner of the sheets, Mayuri hummed his agreement. “Tell me the truth... this wasn’t your first time with a trans guy, was it?”

“Nah, why?”

“I knew it! I knew you were a damn chaser. Why else would you pretend to have a crush on me? All that ridiculous nonsense about my eyes and how smart I am...”

“Pretend?” he cut him off, offended. “I ain’t pretending and I ain’t a chaser. Not that it’s any of yer business but with the first guy... I didn’t know about it until I was balls deep inside him. And you... you jumped me!”

Mayuri narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him. “Yeah... be that as it may, I still don’t trust you.”

“Tch, fine!” Zaraki stared vacantly into the distance. “Wanna cuddle?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Holding Mayuri’s thin body snug against his chest was a whole new level of bliss. And when the scientist’s breaths became heavy with sleep, Zaraki began to feel a kind of melancholy he didn’t quite understand. He wanted to stay awake, to talk to him again and figure out a way they could see each other again, but after musing and pondering many scenarios in his head, where Mayuri always scurried away, he fell into a deep stupor.

When soft rays of sun filtering through the blinds roused him, he was completely alone.

He sat up on the bed and looked down at his empty hands. He supposed he should be happy with what life had gifted him, not everyone had a chance to reconnect with their long-lost love interest but he couldn’t help but struggle to focus on the bright side. Mayuri’s absence already felt unbearable and he’d only been awake a few minutes... he didn’t know how he was going to cope with it for the rest of his life.

He walked into the en-suite to splash some cold water on his face and there, stuck on the rim of the mirror, a little frayed around the edges as if the man had been fidgeting with it for a while, was Mayuri’s card, on it three words – call me, maybe.

[jaxtoys]

No like I genuinely feel terrible that so many people actually genuinely are hating on Ragatha right now. I had my brief mini crash out over the not anymore comment cause I’m super mentally ill with insane attachment issues and I’m uhhhh very feisty when I’m tweaking out (spicy cluster b things amirite) but I did and do feel very bad for her in the most recent episode for most of it. I had a really violent abusive mom which is a lot of why I am Like This so her life before the circus details were the hardest to hear :( I see a lot of qualities I don’t like about myself in her or at least very similar to her so she can get on my nerves because it’s hard to have a mirror held up to yourself and it is not always the most cathartic or nice thing. I know how it feels to take so much shit from people and give and give and give just to be shit on and looked at like I’m crazy or the bad one in a dynamic when I’ve finally had enough and snapped. And she barely even snapped y’all like, why are people looking at her like she shot their grandma over ONE crappy throw away comment she didn’t even actually mean to come off as badly as it did?? I love Jax sm and see him and Ragatha as character foils in terms of how they cope but anyone acting like she’s even done 1/10th as much shit as he has is delulu and brainless

[cosmickid-inmotion]

3 or so day hiatus

I think most of my good friends know this but seeing as I can't shut up I think most of yall know this too.

I'm doing badly.

all the TW's

Starting in mid may during finals week I had a work incident involving physical abuse to a child and some stuff compounded and I had such severe anxiety I had to get anti-anxieties from urgent care (which is kinda like an emergency room but not urgent, if you aren't from the US.)

Graduation week was kinda lot, saying goodbyes to people. Revisiting my childhood home was bitter sweet (the move when i was 16 did -10000 damage to my attachment issues)

My dad lowkey ignored me.

Then there's the facts 1. i havn't gotten a job yet no one even calls me to interview 2. i move AGAIN in a month. 16th move in 10 years. 3. graduation so a big change.

IDK what triggered me into constant disruptive thoughts about my rapes.

If i'm being honest, I'm having thoughts of self harming again. Usually, due to my OCD once I get the thought I do it that day but I've managed not to yet. I wanna right now but I'm at work.

I feel constantly on edge. And it's miserable. Anti depressants were not helping. Anti anxieties do but i think i need a higher dose.

I feel sick to my stomach rn.

On top of all that, my physical pain has been worse than before, which is draining as hell.

When I left for graduation, i was barely online at all that week and i felt better.

SO I'm gonna try that.

I'm taking 3 days off social media to start right after I post the disability awareness event masterlist.

I will be deleting the tumblr app off my phone for a bit. i had to do this last summer with the LAST confessions blog bc I'd go down ocd spirals.

I will have discord incase anyone needs me or wants to check in if they are worried. I am not suicide baiting. I am not a suicide risk, and if I feel like I am a risk I have an IRL support system, and im not afraid of going to the pysch ward. I've checked myself in preemptively before and will again. My roommate is aware of how i'm feeling right now and she's wonderful.

That being said, I'm going to avoid scrolling discord, so if you need to contact me, ping me or dm me if you have my discord.

I don't want anyone worrying about me, I just need a breather. Touch grass, so to speak. And not doom scroll. IDK if any yall have ocd, but OCD can really cause problems with addictive habits, like the internet.

You might see me "online" with the green online status but I'm just gonna be working on updating my links. If you see the green online and dm me, I'll probably ignore it until I get back. it's not personal.

Thanks for being my little buddies on my computer

[icewindandboringhorror]

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[sunlight-shunlight]

thinking about veilguard and bioware in general, i think we are reaching a point where people need to grapple with the inherent limits of what stories can be told in our Current Society and in AAA gaming companies.

on a labour level: mass layoffs, tons of developers leaving despite previously talking about how passionate and happy they were to be involved, not even paying severance, and crunching employees to the point of burnout. this is unfortunately pretty standard for AAA game companies.

on a cultural level: it is SO white and SO centrist-ly Canadian. i wrote up these asks outlining how. it is a repeated pattern of writing in which they go into tortured racial oppression allegories at best, while constantly peppering in a "but BOTH SIDES were wrong and made mistakes :( :( :(", in between their fictional atrocities that are clearly mirroring irl genocides and enslavement. or at worst, it's "the qunari are radical islamic borg" which has even less nuance. i personally thought, since dai came out in 2014, and a lot has changed since then about the world and in public awareness, that this would have filtered into the narrative and resulted in more satisfying and historically grounded writing. unfortunately not the case. it's shocking if you compare it to how sharp and aware and unflinching something like disco elysium is.

so what does this mean?

under these conditions, it is unavoidable that we get development by people who are rapidly cycled out of the company or demoralized into burnout. we get digestible, easy little soundbites of lore without much substance, because any complexity needs more time and coordination rather than the process of "quick, we have these assets, a lot of people involved in making them just got laid off, we need to make Something by next quarter to show the CEO". we get very little cohesion between games, despite the clear intent from dai to have so many plot points set up to follow through in a sequel, because the team and development are so chaotic that they can't hold onto a vision and complete it.

we also get this inherent caution and "conservatism" from the narrative, because on an ideological level, they're largely white people who want cops to be included in pride. so any major change to even a fictional society is Bad and Scary, and shouldn't be done without making sure that every character finger-wags appropriately at non-state violence. there is clearly not much ideological or even ethnic diversity within the leadership; or at least not enough that anyone there felt comfortable even speaking up on minor issues like the Incredibly Orientalist Isabela Outfit, let alone anything larger.

i don't personally think there's too much value in trying to analyze veilguard's plot or lore at this point. the final product is chaotically developed and does not seem to reflect the goals of the creators as set up in prior games, it's basically a ship of theseus in terms of the people and ideas involved in making it. this is sad for all of us, who were interested in the story, and attached to the characters, and were creatively fulfilled by engaging in the fandom. it's probably worse for the developers who have lost their jobs, burnt out, or feel unhappy with the game that they spent years of their life working on. it's certainly miserable as an indictment of The Industry, as well as the general societal climate of white Canadian centrism.

the solution is to create a society where people can develop games in peace and prosperity and stay on projects for longer, rather than constantly getting turfed out without severance pay. and to get some genuine leftists, poc, and indigenous people on staff who can weigh in and provide significant input, rather than a Council Of Liberal White Edmontonians every time.

in the meantime, at the very least, let's please stop preordering AAA games and supporting companies who notably abuse their employees.

[crystalpallette]

so I finished side order recently

[chronologically-challenged]

I think that the party's communication issues can be summed up as "man, is it awkward to tell someone that you want to spend the rest of your life with them if you've only know them for a few months? Probably."

[gomzdrawfr]

Things I've said (out loud and in my head) when I'm wearing dem fuckass contact lenses:

GET IT IN!!!! WHY WON'T YOU GO IN?! STOP SLIPPING OUT!!! MTF STOP BENDING!!! GO IN!!!

oh my god why do you keep sticking to my finger

oh oh it's IN *blinks* *it slips out* FUCKKKKKKK

*eyes tearing up and my eyelid hurts* look at you, pathetic

*angry deep breath and then calm*

*watch another video tutorial, from youtube then xhs back to youtube* what do you mean you can show all your whites my eyes aren't 20% your size

*another deep breath* okay it's literally a piece of jelly thing it's not spikes it's not even going to explode why are you panicking? why are you running? JUST DO IT. PUT IT IN. LET IT IN.

think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing—*slips in* OH MY GOD IT WORKED

*stares at the mirror in amazement while smiling like an idiot*

*immediately dread at the second eye* oh my god here we fucking go again why oh my days

*realize I can't pull the other eyelid up as much as the first eye* oh my fucking- is this really it-

*deep breath again* *stares dead ahead in the mirror* imagine Price beside me right now he's going to be extremely disappointed if I can't even do something as simple as putting a flimsy piece of lens into my eyes

*slips in* LETS GO woah this is weir-AAAAAAAAAAAAA it burns IT BURNS WHY DOES IT BURN SHOULD I TAKE IT OUT *rapid blinking* no wait hold on woah the mirror is clear wait i can read the barcode of my toothpaste WOAH

*stares at the mirror for god knows how long* are my eyes bigger?

*goes out while wearing them* everything is clear *blinks* okay everything is not clear *blinks* okay it's clear again why does this feel like im going 1080p to 720p with a shitty wifi?

I can feel them. Don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it

The very ends of both my eyes are blurry, should I be concerned

I feel very naked (never realized how much I rely on my glasses to cover areas around my eyes)

*does the push glasses up thing forgetting I'm not wearing my glasses* I'm a clown

*stares at reflection* oh shit- that is me? oh woah that is me

Is it obvious I'm wearing them? why is everyone staring at me- did it moved? did the lens move and now I look like an idiot? (proceeds to overthink and be self-conscious, the lens did not move at all)

*reads up more info about contact lenses and realize I didn't soak them in some liquid for 4 hours before wearing them* *starts thinking about the eye doctor again*

I am fine. This is fine. Look at me I look okay I look normal. I'm totally normal.

*looks at something far* woah I can read that! (could do the same thing with my specs but for some reason is fascinated)

friend: "do you feel dryness or itchiness yet?" me: yet? you mean it's gonna happen??? (it has not happen)

*reads up more about contact lenses stuff and getting confused at the amount of liquids brand out there*

*goes home and stare at the mirror again*

Overall 6/10 experience, I would try to wear them again (for now)

Things I've said (out loud and in my head) when I'm trying to take out dem fuckass contact lenses:

oh my god I can't take it out

*watch another 4-8 tutorial videos again*

what do you mean I need to touch it and pinch it out. What- WHAT I NEED TO PINCH IT??? I'M NOT TOUCHING MY EYE LIKE THAT-

what do you mean you can blink it out.

*tries to blink it out and it didnt work and feel like my eyeballs are about to fall out*

*felt like crying but force myself not to because Idk if you should do that when you're wearing lenses*

*tries another 3-4 times and failing*

*sits down on the toilet tile and think about which eye doctor I need to contact and which hospital I can go by train, reciting the emergency number a few times*

*opens socmed to distract myself*

no no fuck you you're overthinking again calm da fak down it's A PIECE. OF. JELLY THINGY.

get up. do the thing. do it scared.

*silently screaming as my index finger slowly reaches for my eyes* I CANT DO THIS

BUT I'M GONNA *touches eye* OH MY DAYS I HATE IT *force myself to slowly slide the contact lens even if it feels extremely uncomfortable*

*starts singing the national anthem FOR SOME REASON* TANAH TUMPAHNYA DARAHHHH KUUUU *finally slide it to the sclera and blinks it out*

*panting like I've ran a thousand miles staring at the folded lens* fuck yoUUUUUUUU *puts it away and looks at the mirror*

oh my god my eye is red, is that normal? should I be concerned? *checks eye*

*stares at the mirror dreading the second eye*

*repeat cycle above with just as much anxiety and stress*

*singing the national anthem did not work this time* *starts thinking about which eye doctor to see again*

*deep breath* listen. if you can take off this last piece. we can...w-we can have pudding, okay? (we don't have pudding, also there's no we it's only me)

*slowly reach for my eyes* *silently screaming*

*realize it doesn't feel as uncomfortable with the other eyes* oh *slowly sliding it to the side then blinks it out*

*it immediately falls to the ground* YEAH you stay down

*looks at mirror* okay this eye isn't red

ah fuck everything's 360p again where's my specs?

Overall 0/10 experience I'm not wearing them again (I still have one more set, I will in fact, wear them again)